It's Not Babysitting - drabbles
by anxioussquirrel
Summary: If you enjoyed the INB world and want to stay in it a little longer, you'll find some missing scenes, background moments and glimpses into the future here. Short drabbles, based on the readers' prompts, updated whenever the Muse strikes.
1. Baby Lily versus Uncle Sebastian

**Kacibowen prompted: Lily (as a baby) will only be calmed down by Seb**

Sebastian heard the baby wailing as soon as he stepped off the elevator and approached the apartment door. It was loud and unrelenting, and for a second he considered turning back and leaving. He wasn't a fan of babies. He definitely wasn't a fan of _crying_ babies.

But he'd promised Kurt he'd come over. It was November, the weather dreadful and flu season in full swing, so they didn't venture out too much with their three-month-old. Blaine at least had school, but Kurt was slowly going crazy, cooped up in the apartment most of the time. Not that he didn't enjoy being a stay at home dad, but he missed having people around and going out whenever they felt like it.

With a heavy sigh, Sebastian knocked on the door.

* * *

"Oh, thank god you're here." Kurt looked frazzled and exhausted as he opened the door with Lily on his shoulder. "She's having a bad day, I can't get her to stop crying and I really need someone to take her over for a second."

"Nu-uh," Sebastian protested as he trailed to the bathroom to wash his hands. "I've told you a hundred times, I'm not babysitting until she talks properly and uses the toilet on her own. Where's Blaine, anyway?"

"I sent him to take a nap, he's been up with her since 4 a.m. I'm not asking you to babysit, Seb, I just need five minutes to pee and grab a quick coffee. Come on, she won't bite you." Kurt navigated him towards the kitchen chair and before Sebastian knew it, his arms were full of a fussy baby. Kurt stretched with a moan of relief and kissed Lily's forehead. "See, just hold her like this. Five minutes, I promise."

And then he was gone, the bathroom door closing behind him, and Sebastian sat there, afraid to move. Babies were so... breakable. Not to mention, wiggly. He frowned when Lily let out a particularly loud mewl.

"Okay, girl, what exactly is your problem?" he asked conversationally and the baby froze with her little mouth comically open. She looked as if she was pondering, her bright blue eyes wide, and Sebastian chuckled quietly. It was kind of cute, he had to admit. "You know, those two love you like crazy, but you've got to let them rest sometimes. Otherwise you'll get them exhausted and useless way too fast. It's strategically unwise, princess."

She smiled suddenly, wide and toothless, and then waved her chubby fist with a squeal of delight. Already all trace of the previous misery was gone from her face.

"How did you _do_ that?" Kurt was standing in the doorway, a picture of astonishment. "We've tried everything all day, both me and Blaine, and nothing helped."

Sebastian shrugged. "I think she likes me. Do you think it's possible she has good taste so early on?"

Kurt laughed and busied himself making coffee. It was the first time Sebastian had seen him using the instant kind.

"I know. But it saves time," Kurt shrugged when he noticed him cringe. "Okay, done. I can take her now if you bring the coffee and whatever you want for yourself to the living room."

"Nah, it's fine." Sebastian was surprised to hear himself say. "I'll be an awesome friend and let you have your coffee in peace. Just pour me some juice."

Getting up and walking with the baby in his arms was still mildly terrifying, but at least Lily was calm now, snuggled comfortably against his chest and gurgling something to herself. By the time he and Kurt were ten minutes into discussing the newest developments of an LGBT-related case Sebastian has taken pro bono, he pretty much forgot there was anything out of the ordinary happening. But then Kurt broke off in the middle of a sentence, his jaw dropping.

"She's asleep." He said softly, his face full of wonder.

She was – tiny fist pressed into her mouth, long lashes fanning over round cheeks, and suddenly Sebastian felt like some kind of hero, even though he didn't really do much of anything.

"Now what?"

"Could you carry her to the bedroom and put her on the bed next to Blaine? When she's fussy like this, she needs plenty of contact, so this way she may sleep longer."

"Sure." Careful not to jostle the baby, Sebastian got up and Kurt went ahead to open the bedroom door for him. Blaine was curled on the wide bed, fast asleep, but the moment Lily was laid next to him, he moved closer to cuddle her up. They looked ridiculously adorable together, asleep like that.

Sebastian left the bedroom and quietly closed the door. Kurt was already in the kitchen, grabbing snacks and making proper coffee. As he went to join him, Sebastian grinned to himself. Maybe babies weren't _that_ bad after all.

Or maybe he was just an awesome uncle.


	2. Blaine's trip to Europe - Kurt's POV

**Prompt: The five weeks of Blaine's trip to Europe (in chapter 25) from Kurt's perspective**

* * *

"You did _what_?" Sebastian paused with the bottle of wine suspended in mid-air. Kurt calmly took it out of his hand and poured himself a second glass, full to the brim.

"I sent him away to Europe and told him to explore whatever he wants."

"And by that, do you mean what I think you mean?" Seb left him to his bottle and reached to pour himself some whiskey.

"Yup." The wine was almost certainly much too good to be downed like this, but whatever. Sebastian knew Kurt didn't come to him to sample his best liquors; he came to get drunk. Truly, epically drunk.

"As in –"

"As in places, cuisine _and_ men. Yes. Don't play dumb."

Sebastian settled across from him in the leather armchair, looking wary. "I'm sorry. It's just, last time I saw you two together, you were _this _close to fucking right there on the dance floor, and it wasn't even a month ago. And now it's over?"

"It's not _over_. Not unless Blaine comes back and tells me it is. Which I hope he won't but _fuck what if he does_?" The third glass went down just as smoothly as the second, with only a tiny dribble landing on Kurt's thigh. Whatever, the jeans were black.

Seb put his glass away on the coffee table and got up. "Okay, I can see this is more of a crisis than I expected. I'll go get your ice-cream and when I come back, you'd better be ready to tell me what you were thinking, sending the love of your life away to fuck random strangers in Europe."

* * *

"Do you remember that feeling, when you're fresh out from your very first relationship, not quite ready to move on yet, but already curious how it's going to be, doing all those things with someone else one day?"

Sebastian's chuckle was dark. "No. I remember the feeling of getting out of the car after your first _relationship_ and hoping the next one would be better, and maybe less drunk. But I think it's close enough."

Right. Kurt forgot about Seb's past sometimes. He waved his spoon in his general direction. "Do you need a hug? Or ice-cream? I could share a little bit."

"No, I need an explanation of this lunacy. And for you to stop dripping ice-cream everywhere."

Right. The explanation. Hopefully he had enough wine in him now to be able to talk about it. He poured another glass just in case.

"Oh, 'kay. It's just, Blaine and I, we fought. It was stupid, but he was angry at me, and he yelled something that– um. He said he doesn't even know how it feels to be with anyone else, and that he never will. And it... it wasn't even like he regretted it, and later he said he didn't mean it like this, but. I've never even realized that the thought was there, you know? This tiny little seed that could grow into resentment, or the feeling like he missed out on something because he was seventeen when we met. And I don't want him to face me one day when he's twenty five, or thirty, and tell me he slept with somebody because, I don't know, we had some problems and he was frustrated, and the resentment was there, and the curiosity, and – No. So I let him go and find his answers now."

Kurt stuffed his mouth full of ice-cream, trying to keep the tears away. It was too early for the tears. Sebastian sighed and poured more wine into his mysteriously empty glass, shaking his head.

"You are the most ridiculously chivalrous, gentlemanly, caring creature I've ever met, do you know that? And I really hope your boy appreciates that. Because I'm guessing it must hurt like hell, to do what you did."

"Like tearing my soul apart. Over and over again. But I love him too much not to do it." Kurt admitted quietly. "Can we stop talking now and just get drunk? Preferably while watching something that requires no thinking and has nothing to do with love?"

"Your wish is my command. Let's see... _Die Hard_ marathon? _The Expendables_? Take your pick."

* * *

The hangover wasn't half as bad as Kurt expected. It may have had something to do with the fact that he passed out halfway through the third film and the second bottle of wine. Usually the therapeutic drinking sessions at Seb's were much more impressive than that, but between the fight and Blaine's departure, the stress and insomnia of the last few days must have been getting to him more than he thought.

Breakfast was a silent affair. Sadness was already settling deep in Kurt's bones, and Sebastian knew the phases of his heartbreak better than anyone, having witnessed it enough times. He let Kurt go with a wordless squeeze of his shoulder that meant more than any assurances could.

Now, it was time for grieving.

True, Kurt hoped that in the end, there would be no reason to grieve; that Blaine would come back to him with his love and no doubts left that the two of them were forever. But he didn't know that – _couldn't _know that, and living through the next however many weeks torn between hope and dread, waiting for the axe to fall, was impossible. In his heart, he had to let go – had to accept the fact that maybe, just maybe, there would be no more _them _soon. He needed to know he could do it and live.

They hadn't broken up and they deeply loved each other, that hadn't changed, but Kurt had sent Blaine on his way to explore the world and his own heart and desires. He did it himself, knowing how dangerous an adventure it could be. Pathways of the heart were tricky and complicated; he needed to be ready to accept the consequences when they came, whatever they were. He needed to let Blaine go. Truly, completely, leaving the door open if he wanted to return, but preparing for the possibility that he may not.

It took Kurt three full days before he was ready to function again. Three days of hiding in the apartment with everything else in his life on hold. It wasn't pretty.

There were lots of tears and some screaming into pillows, there was plenty of cursing his own idea and wishing he could turn back time and do it differently, convince Blaine that they were _it_, that he didn't need anyone else, ever, that without such love, sex was nothing. There were hours spent paralyzed with fearthat the love of Kurt's life may came back a different man, with different feelings and different needs. There was going through years' worth of memories and pictures in a masochistic attempt at... he didn't even know what anymore.

He came out the other side exhausted but completely, unshakingly calm. It was a feeling like he'd never known before, the absolute certainty that no matter what came next, it would be okay. Whatever happened, Blaine was the greatest love of his life and the time spent with him, being together and loved, and just _them_, was the best time Kurt could have ever asked for. It was more than many people ever got – more than _he_'d thought he would ever get, and he was eternally grateful for what they'd had so far. So even if this was it for them, even if Blaine decided their relationship wasn't what he needed, it was okay, as long as he was happy.

But deep down, Kurt had a strong feeling that Blaine loved him in the same _forever_ kind of way. They would find their way to each other in the end, no matter what came between them.

* * *

Going back to work and his usual schedule was surprisingly easy after that. There was no trace of the usual urge to forget, to deal with the heartache by means of working too much, or drinking, or sleeping around. (Not that he _would_ sleep with anyone but Bee. Not anymore.)

With his boyfriend away, Kurt had more spare time than he'd had in years, so he used it to catch up on all sorts of things. He nurtured connections with his somewhat neglected friends, both the closest ones and those he all but abandoned in the rush that his life had become. He dealt with the heaps of old sketches and documents that had been waiting to be looked through and filed for ages; then did a major summer cleaning. He spent a full day in a spa.

Ten days after Blaine's departure he went to the gym, something he hadn't done in over a year. He went again the next day, and the next, and somehow, it became a habit. Using his muscles, feeling his body work felt good; and he might just as well start taking more care of his health and fitness. He wasn't twenty anymore, it wouldn't do itself.

Three weeks into Blaine's absence, Kurt started running every evening, a few laps in the nearby park before getting down to work. The pleasant ache in his muscles after a workout wasn't as good as an orgasm, but it worked just fine for now.

After four weeks, he sat at the abandoned, silent piano in their living room and touched the keys for the first time in months. His fingers, though a bit stiff with lack of practice, still remembered. In no time, he was playing and singing, losing himself in music in a way he used to do so often, long ago. It felt just as good as it always had.

Five weeks after leaving, so early in the morning that Kurt was just considering getting to bed, Blaine called.

* * *

They had agreed to no calling, just texting for the duration of Blaine's trip – it was his time, and Kurt didn't want to interfere, adding his own feelings and news from New York to the mix. He'd been getting daily texts with updates about Blaine's location and whereabouts, and sometimes a random picture or a few sentences about something his boyfriend found fascinating, but that was it. So a call meant something must have happened, good or bad.

Despite the almost zen-like calm he'd kept so far, Kurt's hand shook when he picked it up.

"Hey, Bee."

"Kurt." Blaine sounded breathless, but his voice, soft and warm, wrapped itself around Kurt like a plushy blanket. "I'm coming home. _I'm coming home to you_. I can't stand seeing all those amazing things around me any longer without you by my side. I want to show you so much, we have to come back here together, travel all around, there's so much to see, but I don't want to do it by myself. I love you so much, I miss you like crazy. I need to hold you at last, and kiss you, and never let go, not ever again."

The half-stunned, half-relieved laughter that escaped Kurt's lips was all shaky with tears that were suddenly flowing down his cheeks. "God, I love you too. When –"

"I'm just boarding the plane in Prague. I will be home tonight."

Tonight. His heart would be whole again, tonight. He'd have his Bee here, in their bed, in his arms, tonight. Here to stay.

Tonight.


	3. I'll take care of you

**Prompt: **"_I'll take care of you_"

**[NC-17, hints of mild, loving D/s dynamics (or is it?)]**

* * *

The first time Kurt noticed it, it was near the end of Blaine's freshman year at NYU. There were finals approaching, which Blaine was determined to ace, and a showcase soon afterwards where he was going to play two of his own songs. Kurt was certain with Blaine's talent and his hard work all year long he would breeze right through it. But there was stress anyway: long study sessions and nights spent over the piano perfecting the songs, quiet enough not to wake up the neighbors.

Kurt could see it building in Blaine's frame and his demeanor – the anxiety, the untold worry he wouldn't be good enough. The perfectionism, developed through the years under Mr. Anderson's critical eye, still reared its ugly head every now and then, Kurt knew. The only thing he could do was take care of Blaine until the stressful period passed, making sure he slept enough and ate at all, and didn't beat himself up over every tiny thing he perceived as failure.

It was the night before Blaine's first final of the session, and Kurt had convinced him to go to bed early and get some rest instead of revising yet again. When he left his sewing room and entered the bedroom himself, it was well after three, and Blaine was peacefully asleep, hugging Kurt's pillow to his face the way he always did until Kurt was there to hold instead.

Kurt smiled and slipped under covers, trying his best not to disturb Blaine, but as usual, it was no use. No matter how how deeply asleep or exhausted, Blaine always knew when Kurt joined him in bed, and cuddled to him immediately. Tonight was no exception.

They hadn't had any kind of sex in two weeks; there was never time, and Blaine had been tense and focused on other things so completely he probably didn't even realize it was the longest they'd gone without since they moved in together. Kurt understood, of course – there were things more important than his libido. But he couldn't help it when Blaine rolled into his arms now, naked and sleep-warm, an eternal temptation – it was impossible not to react to that delicious round ass right in Kurt's lap, wiggling a little as Blaine settled into a more comfortable position. Kurt jerked his hips forward on instinct, a moment of friction for his rapidly hardening cock, and then cursed himself silently when he felt his boyfriend stir awake. Blaine needed the sleep, dammit.

Well, it was too late now – he was definitely awake, his ass pressing against Kurt's body in maddening little circles, his arms stretching up above his head on the pillow so that Blaine's whole body was a long tight string of taut muscles. It was an invitation, and Kurt had no intention of refusing; not when Blaine was hard and hot under his hand, his breathing quickening already from the simple touch. Kurt kissed the nape of Blaine's neck, his flexed bicep, pressed his cock urgently against the cleft of Blaine's ass – once, twice, again.

God, he wanted him so much.

He pulled away and rolled Blaine onto his back, moving in to kiss him as soon as his lips were within reach. They'd barely even done _this_ in the last few weeks, except for the _hello_ and _goodnight _kisses, and occasional pecks in passing. Kissing slow and deep like this, with Blaine's mouth warm and soft against his, opening to let him in immediately – oh, how he'd missed that. He let himself get lost in it for a moment, in the sensual, blood-igniting pleasure that still set the butterflies in his stomach aflutter even after a year back together.

In his enchantment, it took Kurt a moment to notice that something was different.

It wasn't the first time Blaine woke up when Kurt came to bed, and sex ensued – far from it; they both loved the luxury of slow, barely-awake lovemaking, and whether at night before Kurt fell asleep or in the morning, when Blaine decided to wake him up, it happened at least once a week. But tonight Blaine's body under him lacked the sleepy bonelessness that made it so easy to slip into him, all relaxed and opening beautifully to Kurt's touch. Tonight, Blaine was thrumming with tension, coiled tightly in every muscle of his stretched up form. And, Kurt realized with a start, he was silent.

Blaine was _never_ silent – he was one of the most vocal lovers Kurt had ever been with, always moaning and sighing, begging for more and chanting Kurt's name, sometimes swearing. From the first touch, Blaine was loud. But not tonight. Tonight his mouth was half open and panting softly when Kurt moved his hips experimentally, but not a sound escaped him. That alone was enough to snap Kurt into attention, make him observe quietly, gather facts. Blaine needed something from him – it was his job to recognize what it was and give it to him.

Blaine opened his eyes, black in the barely illuminated darkness of the bedroom, and looked straight at him – without a word, just a steady, wide-eyed stare, pleading – for what? And then–

His arms.

Blaine's arms were still up on the pillow over his head, and now that Kurt paid attention, he realized – they were crossed neatly at the wrist, palms up, left over right, in the exact position they'd been since Blaine woke up and put them there. His muscles were taut, his shoulders tensed to hold his wrists perfectly still, and Kurt had a sudden flashback to a conversation they'd had two summers ago, when they'd first negotiated the rules of their budding sexual relationship. Blaine had revealed his fantasies then, the things he wanted to try, sexually, and submission was among them. And they'd done it sometimes, but it was always just informal play, a teasing, planned in advance and usually involving some kind of light bondage and toys.

This felt different – deeper, more instinctual. Raw.

Kurt had to make sure, but he had a feeling he knew what it was that Blaine needed right now, what he was asking for in his self-imposed silence. It made so much sense, considering how stressed and anxious he'd been lately, and how hard a time he always had asking for help with anything. This was new, but if Kurt was right, it was exactly that – a plea for help; and Kurt would give it to him in an instant. He just had to be sure.

Kissing Blaine's lips one last time, he reached to cradle his cheek.

"Do you want the cuffs?" Blaine was shaking his head _no_, and Kurt frowned, surprised. "Do you want me to hold your hands down?" He guessed, and again, _no_. Oh. Now _this_ was different.

He didn't understand what it was exactly what Blaine needed, then. But what he _didn't_ need was talking, that part was clear. Kurt would just have to do what he did best, and find his way without the easy crutches of familiar dynamics.

"Okay. So... I'm just going to take care of you, Bee. You don't have to move, or speak, but just in case you need it – your safe word is _blue_. Nod if you accept that."

A nod, and even in the darkness there was relief in Blaine's eyes, a minute loosening of the tension.

That was all Kurt needed. All senses focused on Blaine's every little reaction, his mind processing all the information, he slid down Blaine's body, nipping and kissing a few chosen spots on the way until he was settled between his parted legs.

He sucked him off, slow and deep, mindful of every quickening of breath, every shudder rolling through Blaine's body. He teased and tasted, swallowed around him, and it was a shock how in control of his body Blaine still was, even with the tension clearly unwinding – his hips did not jerk up into Kurt's eager mouth once, his arms stayed in their position, unmoving. His head was thrown back and he was gasping by the time Kurt pulled off his cock and reached for the lubricant.

It had been too long to go with minimal preparation like they usually did. But this was even better – Kurt had a feeling this was what Blaine needed, to be taken care of, not just quickly fucked and brought to release. So he took his time, making a whole long foreplay out of his fingers until Blaine arched and trembled with a completely different kind of tension, his breath coming fast and shuddery, but still without a sound.

Kurt reached to the bedside drawer, but stopped halfway, his instinct telling him to do something else. He looked into Blaine's eyes, which were on him again, calm and trusting.

"Baby, I'm not going to wear a condom. Please shake your head if you're not okay with this."

Just as he thought, Blaine didn't – he just inhaled sharply, his eyes rolling back and his cock jerking up without being touched. Already he held his body differently – in exactly the same position, but the visibly uncomfortable tension of stress was gone, substituted with the fluid feel of arousal.

They didn't go bareback often – it was still something special, something they only did when they felt particularly intense, and had enough time and space for more than just quick sex. It always made them more desperate, and then more cuddly afterwards, holding onto each other long after they'd cleaned up.

Blaine arched his back when Kurt slid into him in one slow, unbroken thrust, but his hands remained exactly where they were. Apart from his arms, he was loose under Kurt now, with his eyes closed and his neck bared, looking peaceful, ready to just take whatever Kurt would give him. He didn't try to push back into Kurt like he usually did, or find friction for his own cock, and so Kurt took his time, plunging deep and then just rocking his hips when he found the perfect angle. He kissed Blaine's open lips, grazed his teeth down his neck. He sucked a few dark marks into his skin, low enough so that they would be easily covered tomorrow, and Blaine went crazy, silently thrashing beneath him. Kurt alternated between long, slow slides and just circling his hips, watching – always watching, observing every shudder, catching every gasp, every flutter of eyelashes. There was no hurry, now. They would get there at Blaine's pace.

It took a long time, but then Blaine's legs were tight around Kurt's waist, and he was begging with his eyes, dripping with sweat and panting, his whole body trembling. His shoulders had to hurt by now, Kurt thought fleetingly as he reached – finally – to Blaine's leaking cock. It was only now that he allowed himself to slide towards climax, too, to let go of the strict control he had over his own reactions, so focused on Blaine tonight. A few firm, slow strokes of Blaine's cock, several sharper thrusts, and they were both coming. Now, in the silence of the room, Kurt realized that he had been completely quiet tonight, too.

Blaine was trembling, coming down, his face hidden in the crook of Kurt's sweaty neck, but then his shoulders slumped and his arms slid slowly, awkwardly around Kurt's chest instead, and – _oh, hey, there you are_. Kurt reached to rub at the strained muscles immediately, leaning up on his elbow and looking at Blaine closely, trying to assess his state. He looked peaceful now, sated and sleepy, and Kurt smiled, unable to contain the love overflowing his heart. He stroked Blaine's cheekbone with his thumb and leaned down for another slow kiss before sitting up.

"Love, I'll be right back, I just need to grab a washcloth. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah." Blaine's voice was a croak, but it was there, along with a smile. "Thank you."

* * *

There was no time to talk about it until the next evening, after Blaine's final and Kurt's meetings, but Blaine seemed to be doing much better all day than he had in the last few weeks. He even decided to take a break and watch a movie with Kurt instead of studying for a change. They were sipping wine afterwards, Blaine's feet in Kurt's lap, when Kurt asked the question that had been on his mind all day.

"So... about last night–"

Blaine reached for his hand.

"Last night was perfect, Kurt. I don't know how you just knew what I needed when I wasn't sure myself, but... you did, and it was indescribable. I felt like I was falling, and it was like you told me that I can, because you'll catch me. I don't know how to explain it otherwise, I just... thank you."

Kurt squeezed his hand, relieved. "You're very welcome. And in case you ever need that again, don't hesitate to tell me."

Blaine flashed a small, self-conscious smile. "I probably won't exactly _tell_ you. But you'll know."


	4. When love is too much - a flashback

**A/N: **No prompt this time. This is a flashback to a time before INB plot takes place – specifically, the scene that this exchange between Sebastian and Kurt alluded to:

_"Just... take care of yourself, okay? I don't want to have to scrape you off a New York sidewalk one day. I really prefer you in one piece."_

_Kurt just nodded. They'd never talked about that one night back when, and they would continue not to. But they both knew: sometimes, love was too much._

(It's Not Babysitting, chapter 18)

**PG-13. Angst. ****Warning****: a situation and mindset that may be interpreted as suicidal**

* * *

**WHEN LOVE IS TOO MUCH**

There are times in life when everything is going right, every piece of the puzzle seems to fit in perfectly at last. Then, sometimes, someone pulls the rug from beneath your feet, leaving you scrambling for purchase.

And that's fine; that's life.

But when the person that makes the ground crumble and the heavens fall is the same one that first put them there and built everything that makes up your safety net... sometimes it's too much.

With nothing to hold onto, falling seems only a matter of time.

* * *

Sebastian was worried.

Something was up with Kurt tonight. He was supposed to be out with James, picking the cake for their New Year's wedding, wrapping up the last details – and instead, he'd called Sebastian half an hour ago, asking if he had a free evening in that brittle voice of his that Sebastian had heard only a few times before. It never meant anything good.

Something was wrong.

He'd only had a few last things to finish before he could leave the office, so he'd offered drinks if Kurt came to pick him up. His place or a bar, he'd decide once he was able to measure Kurt's mood properly. Did he and James argue about wedding-related stuff again – with barely over three weeks left, Kurt had been turning into a groomzilla at times – or was something more serious going on?

Except Kurt should have been here at least ten minutes ago, and Sebastian couldn't help but worry. He picked up his phone.

The wind was whistling in the background when Kurt answered, his voice muffled.

"Hello?"

"Cupcake, weren't you supposed to be here by now? There's only so many times I can polish the partners' name tags before I get completely bored."

Kurt sounded... dreamy? "Oh, I'm here. I just went up to the roof and lost track of time. The view here is spectacular."

Something seized in Sebastian's throat, fear plucking at the tight strings of his nerves. "The _roof_? Kurt, are you crazy? It's December, and... no, okay, I'm coming to get you. And then I demand explanation, because–"

There was a steady beep of a signal in his ear. Kurt had hung up.

There are moments that, once encountered, stay with you forever, tattooed into your memory in indelible ink. Seeing Kurt – literally – on the ledge was definitely one of those.

Sebastian froze in the doorway, the vast expanse of the roof spreading before him. He didn't need details to know who that dark silhouette was at the far end, outlined sharply against the steel gray of the snowy sky. For a moment, he was unable to move because Kurt was just there, standing on the fucking _wall_, and god, if he startled him–

But he had to get there, had to pull this fool down, what was he _doing_?

He made his way across the roof on weak legs, as quietly as possible with the snow crunching under his feet, in a wide arch to enter Kurt's peripheral vision first. It took forever, but then Kurt turned his head to look at him, and Sebastian let out a shuddering breath he'd held for what felt like an age.

It was only a temporary relief.

Kurt's face was all _wrong_, blank and empty, pale as the snow, with his eyes huge and unblinking, and if Sebastian thought he'd been scared before, it was nothing to what he felt now. He approached slowly, his hand outstretched.

"Kurt, get down from there. It's cold and dangerous and–"

"He left me." Kurt's voice was barely audible against the wind, his eyes set down on the streets below again. He seemed not to notice Sebastian's hand at all.

_Oh fuck._

"Kurt. Please come down, we'll talk here." He didn't like the panic rising audibly in his voice, didn't want to trigger Kurt into any rash reaction, but god, if it was true– James was Kurt's everything, unhealthily so, and Sebastian struggled to find the right thing to say. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding, you'll get it fixed in no time at all. He loves you, Kurt, come on."

"He took me to dinner and held my hand and said he's had doubts for months and he can't go through with this, that he can't see us together in five years." Kurt's voice was monotone, his face expressionless. "He called off the wedding."

He swayed suddenly, as if his knees were going to give way under the weight of his words, and Sebastian was certain his heart stopped for the few seconds it took Kurt to regain his balance on the slippery edge.

When he found his voice, it was rough, fractured.

"He's an idiot, then, not worth your time. And definitely not worth jumping off a skyscraper."

"I'm not jumping." Kurt sounded more distant by the minute. "It's just so peaceful here. I want to fall asleep and not have to think about it because everything hurts when I do. I want to slip and sink into this city. I want the world to stop."

"_Kurt_–" Sebastian had no idea what to say.

Kurt was clearly losing it. He'd never seen him like that, so far from okay. This was real, he was a danger to himself in this state and there was no one but them here, no one to help and _fuck_, what did one do when their best friend lost their mind from grief?

Sebastian had never felt so helpless before, and so keenly aware how dire the consequences of any wrong move could be.

Cursing under his breath, trying not to think of the forty floors of nothing but freezing air below them, he climbed up to kneel on the wall by Kurt's feet, reaching up to him.

"Kurt, please. It's not the end of the world, you've got me and Cooper, and your family, we'll help you, everything will be alright again, just. Please. Get down from there." He didn't even try to suppress the fear in his voice now.

Kurt ignored him in favor of leaning a little forward to look down. "Have you ever noticed how quiet it is here?" He asked conversationally.

Well of course it was. Sebastian didn't even want to know how high they were.

Kurt's foot slipped a little and he swayed again, harder this time.

It probably spoke a lot about how important Kurt was to him that Sebastian was standing up on the wall and reaching out to support him before his mind had time to start screaming. Kurt grabbed his arm with his flailing hand and steadied himself. Then he blinked slowly and his eyes set on Sebastian's face properly, more aware at last, widening.

"What are you doing, you idiot? You're afraid of heights! Get down!"

"Well thank you for reminding me, now do me a favor and leave this strategically unwise position so that I can, too." Clearly being about to die awakened some hidden resources of coherency. Sebastian was mildly impressed with himself. Of course, he'd rather skip the _dying_ part.

"Fine."

Without a hitch, Kurt turned smoothly on the spot and jumped down to the roof, before reaching his hand to Sebastian, who took it gratefully. Once he was safely on solid ground, Sebastian's legs started shaking so hard he had to kneel down for a moment. He felt breathless and lightheaded, as if he'd just ran a marathon.

"Oh fuck, Kurt, holy shit, don't everdo this again. _Ever_."

Kurt started crying.

* * *

Later that night, after Kurt's epic meltdown in the cab and the two hours he'd spent sobbing, curled tightly in the corner of Sebastian's couch, things calmed down a little. Sebastian gave Kurt an Ambien and took him to bed, wrapping up around him for comfort just as much as for fear he might have any other scary ideas overnight.

Sebastian wasn't a cuddler, he needed ample personal space in bed just like he needed it in his daily life, but that night, he knew he wouldn't budge an inch. He held Kurt tightly as the drug started to work its magic, telling him how he was going to be just fine, spectacular even, without that asshole James, and how one day, a gorgeous man, a man of his dreams, would appear in his life and be everything Kurt had ever hoped for, and more. It was only a matter of time.

Kurt muttered "Not gonna happen" before falling asleep.

* * *

Kurt had never actively considered suicide. Not even in the bleakest moments back in high school, when everything he could hope for was an escape from his small, homophobic town – a prospect so distant it felt like a mirage. Even then, taunted and bullied and fighting his way through every day, he hadn't once thought it might be easier to just end it all. Because it wasn't his way. He was not a quitter, and besides, that would be selfish. No matter how few, there were still people who cared about him.

So waking up and remembering that last night, he'd found himself standing on that roof, teetering on the ledge, was terrifying. He remembered it all too vividly: looking down through the darkness, at the lights and the _life_ of the city he'd chosen as his and loved for the last seven years; snowflakes catching on his eyelashes, cold wind combing through his hair in a biting caress.

He would never kill himself. And yet, in that one night of insanity, life had _not_ been the obvious choice.

* * *

The first thing out of Kurt's mouth once he opened his eyes and saw Sebastian watching him with a worried expression was "I swear I wasn't going to jump."

The second was "Thank you."


End file.
